Dear Daniel Fenton
by GumistahFic
Summary: Sam Manson is a loner, but she refuses to admit she's lonely. Danny Fenton is lonely, but has to be a loner to keep his loved ones safe. Tucker Foley is a geek who just happened to be at the right place at the right time. Slight AU, DxS
1. Chapter 1

Dear Daniel Fenton

…

Slight AU

 _Sam Manson is a loner, but she refuses to admit she's lonely. Danny Fenton is lonely, but has to be a loner to keep his loved ones safe. Tucker Foley is a geek who just happened to be at the right place at the right time_.

This fic is loosely inspired by the song If I Could Tell Her from the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack. In this story, Danny, Sam, and Tucker are not friends (yet) as of the start of their senior year at Casper High. Danny's accident still happened when he was just fourteen, and he's been the town superhero/public enemy number one since then. Jazz knows Danny's secret, but he doesn't' know that she knows. Most cannon things from the series have happened, but not all of them, and all of them that did happened without Sam and Tucker (which obviously eliminates episodes like Beauty Marked and King Tuck). You'll see. Maybe they'll happen here.

This first chapter is a long one, as I'm setting up the story.

Reviews welcome! I hope to update every weekend, but who knows? Life is messy and full of surprises.

I don't own Danny Phantom or Dear Evan Hansen.

…

Chapter One

Dawn of the Last First Day

…

" _Good morning, sunshine! And how to we greet the new day?"_

Sam groaned, wishing her bed would suddenly come alive and swallow her whole. Then she could sleep forever and avoid going toschool. She could also avoid the harsh stream of light that flooded her room, and the two smiling silhouettes that woke her. Squinting against the blinding sun, Sam sat up and scooted away from her mother who had sat on the edge of her king-sized bed.

"How about by closing the damn curtains?" The goth mumbled, blinking as her eyes adjusted.

Her father shook his head, "Now, Sammy, don't curse. We greet the day with smile and an attitude of gratitude!"

Sam thanked her lucky stars that she was nearly eighteen, a mere year away from legally being able to get out of her parents' house. Today was the start of her senior year at Casper High, which was no doubt the reason for this perky wake-up call. It was a rare instance that her parents would come into her room uninvited—so, really, they never came in—and they were a stark contrast to the gothic decorum.

Her mother, who was dressed head to toe in pink tones and pearls, was smiling at her brightly, but Sam could see the frantic wrinkles around her eyes. "Samantha, sweetie? I was thinking that maybe we could spice up the wardrobe today!" It was then that the goth noticed the box in her mother's hands; Chanel. Fancy. "It _is_ your senior year, Sammy-kins."

"And nothing says, _hey, world, look at me_ , like floral print!" Her dad gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up, his blonde hair perfectly styled and his patterned blue sweater proving his point.

Sam sighed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with clenched fists. She could feel yesterday's eyeliner smearing across her face, but she didn't care. Maybe she wouldn't even wash her face today. That would show her parents.

"This is a one-of-a-kind piece, Sammy. It hasn't even hit the runways yet!" Peeking open one eye, Sam watched in disgust as her mother pulled the pink monstrosity out of its box. There were a lot of frills. A _lot_. "The other girls would be blown away!"

"And the boys would be falling all over you!" Her dad added with a clap of his hands, the sun glittering off of his watch. That watch cost more than her Vespa, Sam knew.

Cursing under her breath, Sam threw back the covers and walked away from her parents and to her desk, where she dug around until she found what she was looking for. "I'll wear it if I can make a few alterations," Sam shook the can of black spray paint enthusiastically as she skipped back towards her parents.

Both parents leapt to their feet, her mother clutching the dress to her chest protectively. "Samantha, don't you dare!"

But Sam was quick. The hiss of the paint drowned out the older woman's shriek, and Sam smiled at the stark black stripe that appeared across the bodice of the pink dress. "There. Now, if I can just rip those sleeves off…"

Her mother looked like she would burst into tears as she ran from the room, her heals clacking loudly against the floor as she went.

"Pamela, wait!" Jeremy reached a hand out to his wife but caught only the ruined dress as she left it behind. Clenching his fists, he turned towards his daughter, "I don't know why we even _bother_." Before Sam could react, he was chasing after her mother, dropping the pink and black pile of frills at Sam's feet.

Sam blinked, shocked at her father's outburst, but shook it off as her goth indifference settled in. She didn't know why they bothered, either. Let them hate her. They didn't really love her, she knew. They wanted a daughter that was just like them, and Sam just…wasn't. She never would be. With a cry of frustration, Sam picked up the dress and tossed it into the trash. As soon as she had that diploma in her hands, she was out of Amity Park and out of this house for good.

…

" _Danny, are you awake? You don't want to be late!"_

Danny gasped at the sound of his sister's voice, rolling out of bed and onto the floor with a loud _oof!_ He struggled against the cocoon of covers before phasing quickly out of them, rising to his feet and breathing heavily. It took him a few breaths to gather himself, to realize that Jazz _wasn't_ actually in his room and didn't _actually_ see him use his ghost powers. He stared at his clock, trying to make sense of it, and the aches of last night's battle settled in. _Ouch,_ he rubbed the back of his stiff neck, _damn you, Skulker._

7:50 a.m. He was going to be late.

"Oh, crud," Danny dove into his closet, digging through the slew of clothes piled on the floor. "And on the first day, too." He found some torn-up jeans, a blue plaid button-up that he threw on over the wrinkled NASA shirt he slept in, and managed to get his shoes on the correct feet as he tripped down the stairs.

Amused, his sister regarded his graceless descent with an eyebrow raised. "Do you need a lift, Danny?" She was sitting on the couch, coffee steaming in one hand and an open book in the other. _Ectophycology_ read the front cover.

"No thanks, Jazz." Heading for the kitchen, Danny made a mess of the cupboards until he found a Poptart that was quickly shoved into his mouth. He called out as he the chewed pastry, with crumbs spewing everywhere, "Too much traffic. I'm just gonna book it on foot." _Well_ , Danny thought, _not really. I'm gonna book it on air._

"Danny!" He froze on his way towards to front door, turning to face his parents ascending from the basement. "I can't believe you haven't left yet!" His mother's tone was scolding, but she was smiling at him.

"You don't want to be late for your first day of your last year of high school!" His father swept him up in a crushing hug, which made Danny choke out a bit of his breakfast. "Fentons are never late!"

"Jack, you've been late to every event in your entire life."

"Nonsense, Maddie! I just run on Fentontime! You're never late when you're running on Fentontime!" Setting his son down, Jack scooted over to his wife to show her his watch. The face of the watch was, of course, his own face, grinning. "It also detects how long a ghost has been within a one-hundred-foot radius!"

Danny tensed, beginning to inch towards the door, his eyes stuck on his father's watch. It was already eight o'clock. Also, he didn't want to be around when the ghost-detection part started.

" _There has been a ghost within the Fentontime radius for…five hours. Thank you for using Fentontime!"_

Maddie gasped, "There's been a ghost in the house for five hours? Jack, quick, to the lab!"

"Right behind you, baby cakes! We'll find that spook and rip him apart for daring to trespass in Fenton Works!"

Five hours sounded about right. Didn't he finally dump Skulker back into the Ghost Zone around three this morning? Danny left the kitchen as his parents did, shaking his head as he reached the front door, noticing Jazz standing there with a backpack in her hands. He took it from her with a smile, "Thanks, Jazz."

"Anytime, little brother." She ruffled his already-messy hair, and opened the door for him. "Be careful on your way to school. Wouldn't want anybody to see you fl—running. Running late!" Jazz blushed, shoving Danny outside with a strained laugh. "Because that would be embarrassing! Running late on your first day of senior year! Anyways, love you, good luck, bye!" And she slammed the door.

With one eyebrow raised, Danny went down the front steps and looked both ways—all clear—before diving into the ally beside his house. Out of habit, he whispered under his breath, "I'm going ghost!"

He was used to the bright rings of light that would burst into existence when he transformed, but it still amazed him. It didn't hurt, but it was a shock to his system to suddenly, well, not have a system. His heart froze mid-beat in his chest, his blood stopped pumping, and Danny knew he didn't have to breathe. The ally around him dropped in temperature; frost crept up the side of his brick house and the puddles beneath him froze solid. Lifting into the air with ease, Danny took off, invisibly, into the air, feeling wide awake as he headed off to his last first day of school.

…

" _C! A! S, P, E! R you gonna cheer with me? CASPER! CASPER! Gooo, Casper!"_

Tucker took a moment to admire the ladies cheering in the front lawn of the school, sighing dreamily as they waved their red and white pom-poms at all the students walking by. There were balloons and banners, all in the school colors, decorating every available surface and spilling out of classroom windows. The biggest banner, hung right above the front doors, read WELCOME BACK, STUDENTS!

Hopping out of his jeep—his baby, his sweet baby—Tucker walked with his hands in his pockets towards that banner, feeling optimistic about the day. Sure, he wasn't popular. Sure, his only friends were Mikey and Nathan, the presidents of the Casper High Mathletics Club. And, _sure_ , he hadn't been on a date since that time Valerie Grey got dumped by Kwan Weston-Wang right before the junior prom. But this was a whole new year! His last chance at an enjoyable, normal high school experience! No more Dungeons and Dragons competitions! No more dateless nights spent playing Doom with strangers on the internet! No more—

 _CRASH!_

Tucker jumped at the sound, his eyes darting to the dumpster on the side of the building where the crash seemed to come from. He tensed, hoping to not become another ghost attack victim, and was about to make a run for it when a figure appeared from behind the trash can.

"Ow," The kid—a classmate Tucker recognized from years of being in the same classes, not to mention his infamous parents—was rubbing the back of his neck with a grimace on his face. "Stupid, piece of shit Ectopus…" Danny Fenton's blue eyes came up to meet Tucker', and he froze. "Uh…Hi."

Tucker blinked, looking from the disheveled boy to the trashcan and back. Ecto…what? "Uh…Hey." Something growled from inside the big green bin, and both teens took a step away. "Oh, man. Is there something in there?"

Danny reached into his backpack, searching for something frantically, "Nah, there's nothing…in…here." He looked up, seeming to not find what he was looking for. "Aw, crud."

A glowing green monster burst from the dumpster, screeching as the temperature around the lawn dropped. It looked like an octopus, but had an almost human face, with bright red eyes and sharp fangs that dripped glowing goo from its mouth. Goosebumps rose on his skin, and Tucker took a step back with a whimper, noticing how Danny took a step forward, _towards_ the ghost.

"Dude, we gotta get outta here!" Tucker reached to grab his classmate's arm, to pull him away, but he must've been farther away than he thought, because he grabbed nothing but air. Someone screamed behind him, and Tucker turned, watching with wide eyes as the rest of the students noticed the ghost and erupted into panic. When he looked back at towards ghost, Tucker saw that Danny had vanished. Probably ran away. _Which_ , Tucker thought, _I should probably do right about now._

He made a break for it, fear bubbling up his throat as the ghost's gaze followed him, screeching violently as it waved its tentacles after the techno geek. With a yelp, Tucker ducked away from a blast of energy, and directly into someone on the sidewalk.

"AH!" Tucker ended up with his legs tangled with the stranger's, and his hands on either side of their face. When he opened his eyes, which he had squeezed shut in fear, he was met with purple irises and lots of dark eyeliner.

"Get off me!" The girl yelled, pushing them both off the pavement clumsily. They sat there, panting, before another blast landed inches away from their feet. "Come on!" She sprang into action, grabbing his hand and pulling him up with her. They ran, following after the other students who were fleeing the scene.

Tucker let her tug him along, and he looked back, screaming (higher pitched than he'd care to admit) at the sight of the beast gaining on them. The girl led them to the front of the building, but as she reached for the door, another ghostly blast melted the handles, scorching her hand in the process.

"Shit," She hissed, letting go of Tucker to cradle her burnt hand. With wide eyes she watched as the ghost approached them, Tucker whimpering beside her, when suddenly the creature was pulled away from them and sent flying into the parking lot. Car alarms went off, smoke rose from crushed vehicles, and a new figure was flying in front of them.

"I bet you think you're so special, pal, escaping from the thermos like that," Phantom's voice echoed. It was otherworldly, not unlike the other ghost's screeches, but his voice didn't sound deadly, it sounded bored. Tucker gaped up at the hero, as in awe as ever at the sight of the white-haired hero. He shook his head, holding his arm out in front of the girl behind him as if the geek could offer any protection. In the back of his mind, he knew that the school was watching this all unfold, and he wanted to be remember as brave.

Phantom lowered himself so that he was standing on the sidewalk in front of the school and tossed his thermos between his hands playfully. "But you're not special," He continued talking to the specter as it rose from the parking lot, its eye burning a dangerous red. "I just dropped the thermos. My bad. Won't happen again." He aimed and fired, a bright white light devouring the ghost before sucking it into the container with one last shriek. The ghost boy put the lid on the thermos unceremoniously before turning to the only two teens outside the building.

Tucker looked at the ghost, to the girl, to the still-burning WELCOME BACK sign above their heads, and then back to Phantom. He'd seen the hero before—who hadn't? He'd been seen fighting ghosts almost every single day for the last four years—but never quite the close, and Tucker tensed as the ghost boy flew even closer. Tucker took a step back, which he told himself was to protect the girl and not because he was freaked out by the way the air became almost frigid at Phantom's presence.

"Are you two alright?" The hero asked in his ghostly echo, bright green eyes shining with concern.

Tucker opened his mouth, but only a quiet "Uhhhhh…" came out. Phantom smirked.

The girl behind him rolled her eyes and moved around Tucker, "My hands." She held them up, and both Tucker and Phantom gasped at the sight of them. Ectoplasm was staining her palms and her studded bracelets, and bloodied blisters were forming beneath the goop on her skin. "It burnt my hands."

"Oh, my God, we've got to call an ambulance, you're gonna die, holy _freaking shit_ …!" Tucker dug his hands into his pockets, multiple devices falling out onto the steps.

The girl rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the gasp when Phantom appeared very close to her, glowing eyes narrowed at her palms as his hands hovered above them. Her teeth almost began to chatter, but she clenched her jaw.

"May I?" The ghost asked, and his spectacular eyes rose to meet hers. She nodded wordlessly, and Phantom gently set his hands on top of hers, sending a shiver up her arms and through her whole body. She shook, but only for a moment because then the shiver was gone, and so was the ghost boy.

Tucker, ready to dial 911 on his cell, stared at the girl's hands, which were now glistening with tiny droplets of cool ice, soothing her burns and washing away the ectoplasm. The two teens looked at each other, before the sound of an approaching siren broke the tension. Four white vans were racing towards the school, followed by two police cars, and Tucker could hear a chopper in the distance.

Danny breathed a sigh of relief as he changed back into a human, triple checking that the thermos was closed securely in his backpack before he snuck out of the broom closet he was hiding in. He followed the sound of excited voices to the front of the school, where students had been watching the attack unfold. He bumped into someone purposely, "Watch it, Fenton!" so he would have an alibi.

They had just opened the doors, which was the cause for all the excitement. Mr. Lancer was leading two students inside, shooing away the Guys in White, "We no longer require your services, Agents. These students, I'm sure, are anxious to begin their studies. Feel free to patrol the campus, but I will not have you _suits_ disrupting my classes. The ghosts did that enough."

The Agent in question was expressionless, but nodded before speaking quietly into his headset and leading the other men back outside. Danny ran a hand through his hair, letting out the breath he didn't realize he was holding as the men went back to their vans. They'd soon realize that Phantom was long gone, and leave. He hoped.

The bell rang, starting all of the students in the hallway before everyone began to scurry to their classes. As he looked back at the two students being led to the nurses office, he noticed that the girl was hiding her hands inside her sleeves, and the boy was looking right back at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Dear Daniel Fenton_**

 **I don't own DP, y'all. And again, some of this fic is inspired by the Dear Evan Hansen soundtrack. I don't own that, either, but you should give it a listen.**

 **Bless the reviewers and the followers! You guys made my week!**

. . . . .

Chapter Two

Maps

. . . . .

 _Sam was clutching her sleeves over her hands,_ hiding the ice that was somehow not melting away and not giving her frostbite and somehow soothing her wounds. She was nervous that someone would notice, would ask questions, and she didn't want to draw any attention to herself or the ghost boy.

Phantom _._ This certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen him, and it wasn't even the first time she'd been rescued by him. Sam couldn't stop picturing his glowing green eyes, or the way his hair seemed to be flowing in some invisible wind, and she could still hear the way his voice echoed when he spoke. _May I?_

"…and we have already called your parents. Mr. Foley, Miss Manson, you are excused from first period." Sam snapped out of her thoughts at the mention of her parents. Principal Ishiyama was smiling gently at them, as if they were going to burst into tears at any moment. Sam scowled back at her, crossing her arms across her chest and huffing out a breath. Great. Her parents were going to lose their freaking minds, even if ghost attacks were crazy common around here.

"So, can we leave?" Sam looked towards the door, longing to get out from under the caring gaze of her teachers.

Sighing, Mr. Lancer stood from his seat beside the principal. "Yes, Miss Manson. But please, don't hesitate to seek out help if you need it. Ghost attacks and hauntings can be quite traumatizing."

Sam was already out the door, heading for the girls' restroom. She peeked under all the doors, making sure she was alone, before stepping up to the sink and rolling up her sleeves. The icy crystals on her skin sent rainbows across the mirror, and Sam was practically hypnotized by the sight. She couldn't feel her burns at all, she felt only a gentle cold, as if she was holding her hands in a bowl of cool water. They felt numb to the touch, but not painful, not burnt, not freezing. Sam was so entranced by the ghostly magic that she nearly jumped out of her skin when the bathroom door slammed open. She dunked her hands into the sink, and the faucet turned on automatically.

Steam rose, and Sam watched as the ice melted away and revealed a small cluster of marks on each hand, fresh but nearly healed. "Whoa…"

"And he was _sooo_ close to me, Star! Just on the other side of the door." That voice made Sam roll her eyes, the wonder of her healed hands leaving as dread settled in. "Oh, lookie here, Star! It's the real ghost of Casper High!" Paulina Sanchez was wearing her cheerleading uniform, matching her companion's, and both girls were smirking at Sam with glaring expressions. "Was that spook in the parking lot your boyfriend, come to wish you luck on the first day?"

Sam didn't turn to face them, instead she glared at their reflections in the mirror. "Please. I'm not the one with a Phantom shrine in my locker, Paulina."

With a scoff, Star shook her head, blonde hair flying around her face dramatically. "Um, she meant the big ugly octopus, stupid."

"Ooh. I see," Sam moved her hands from the sink to dry them, sidestepping the cheerleaders to get to the paper towels. She wiped her hands gently, taking care to not reopen the blisters, still amazed at the miracle of it. With a yelp, Sam was suddenly pushed against the wall. Cradling her hands on her chest, hiding her palms, she glared back at the two cheerleaders who were leaning towards her menacingly. "What?" Sam's voice was sharp, but a small bundle of apprehension made its home in her stomach.

Paulina pointed a perfectly manicured nail at the goth, and spoke in a low voice, "Listen, chica. Don't get any ideas about the ghost boy. He's mine."

"Yeah," Star put a hand on Paulina's shoulder, ever the loyal friend.

Sam scoffed, shoving her way around the two girls and towards the door. "I prefer big ugly octopuses, thanks." Just as she opened the door, one of them—or maybe both, she couldn't tell—gave her another rough push, sending her tumbling out into the hallway. And for the second time that day, she became tangled up with some guy.

"Oh, yikes, I'm so sorry!" The boy's voice cracked a bit in embarrassment as he quickly leapt to his feet, holding out a hand for Sam.

The goth ignored his offer and rose on her own, shoving her hands into the pockets of her black jeans as she met his eyes. She knew of Danny Fenton, the kid with horrible grades and horrible attendance and the subject of many horrible rumors. Most of those rumors had less to do with him and more with his ghost-hunting parents, about their experiments and the credibility of their work, but he was mocked nonetheless. Not by her, of course, but she saw it happening frequently.

"It's fine," Sam was short, angry at the girls she could hear cackling in the bathroom behind her. "But maybe don't creep around the women's room? I wouldn't have had to run you over if you weren't a creep."

He gaped, raising his hands in defense and shaking his head. "N-No! No, I wasn't creeping, I swear! Just walking by." With a shaky laugh, he bent back down to collect his things, which were spilled out of his backpack and across the hall. A few students were lingering around outside of class, some of them eyeing the two black haired teens' awkward exchange. "Teacher's don't care if you're late to homeroom after a ghost attack."

Sam almost smirked. "Some of us get excused from homeroom completely after a ghost attack. Just get yourself caught in the middle of one and you're set."

He smiled up at her, and she got a good look at his icy blue eyes. Blue not unlike the icy that had been on her palms, which she clenched in her pockets. He tired blue eyes, like he hadn't slept, she though, but he wasn't unattractive. "Oh, I try to steer clear of ghost attacks." Something about that made him let out another laugh as he stood. He was a good head taller than Sam, so she looked up at him through her heavily mascaraed lashes. "Not really my thing," he slung his backpack over one shoulder and waved as he walked towards his class. "Sorry, again."

"You're forgiven, creep." Sam waved back without thinking, but caught herself and shoved her hand back into her pocket. Danny didn't seem to notice as he turned away, and Sam kept her hands in her pocket all the way to the library, where she was going to hide from her parents who were going to inevitably show up here in a panic.

Tucker was one of the students who watched the short interaction between his two classmates, and as they were walking away from each other, he noticed that Danny had left a few things behind on the floor right outside the girls' bathroom. He walked to pick up the loose pieces of paper and thermos Danny had dropped, shoving them in his own satchel before heading to the cafeteria for a second breakfast in his free time. He had third period with Danny Fenton and would return his stuff then. In the meantime, "Chocolate milk and bacon, here I come."

. . . . .

 _Mr. Lancer was tired._ Teaching was his passion, his life's work, but he was exhausted. The ghost attack this morning hadn't helped, and the headache he was already fighting got worse as he recounted the event to the Guys in White. They frequented Casper High in the last few years, as the ghosts had become more and more active with every passing day. Even when he was a student here, he remember the odd haunting every now and again; moaning in the hallway, a skeleton face in the bathroom mirror. Nothing that a few local priests couldn't handle.

But now ghost hunting was a government affair, political. And like all things that become that way, it was messy, rude, and exhausting.

He took a sip from his coffee, looking at his computer with heavy eyes. New had already spread about the event. Quietly, he read to himself, _'A lower class spectral entity attacked students at Casper High this morning at 8:15am, damaging school and student property. The attack was led by public enemy number one, the Phantom, who escaped with the lower entity as authorities arrived on the scene. Neither ghost has been apprehended._ ' Other sip of coffee, a sigh, and then a quiet laugh. _Bullshit._

Mr. Lancer, being a teacher, could not voice his political opinion in almost any context. But he believed that not all 'spectral entities' were evil, and he believed that the Phantom was one of those who was _good_. He'd seen the ghost boy rescue too many of his students to believe anything but. He knew that he was one of the only staff members at Casper who felt this way, so he kept it too himself.

He looked up at his homeroom class, who were busying themselves with an essay. _Who do you hope to be at graduation?_ was written across the chalkboard, and after brief instructions from him, they were writing away. Three pages, front and back, about all they hoped to accomplish during their senior year. It was more of a filler than anything else, as Mr. Lancer was too tired to give a lecture on American literature on the first day.

One student, who had stumbled in late, was staring out of the window instead of writing. Daniel Fenton was often late, and Mr. Lancer had come to expect very little from him. Which was a shame, because Lancer knew he was a bright kid. He came from a smart, albeit strange, family. His older sister was a star pupil, but Daniel had never applied himself quite the same way. Lancer had lost track of the times Danny had fallen asleep at his desk, which was concerning alone, but combined with his frequent absences, low grades, and general anxiousness, Mr. Lancer often worried that Daniel Fenton was caught up in something bad. Drugs, maybe? A gang?

Mr. Lancer watched Danny now, as he sunk into his usual back-row seat, hair flying in every direction and clothes wrinkled. He looked awful. Pale skin, but dark circles under his eyes. Lancer hoped it wasn't drugs. It would be such a waste. He was such a bright kid.

. . . . .

 _Who do I hope to be at graduation?_ Danny ran a hand through his hair, thoughtful. _Alive. And actually graduating._

He began to scribble down a very generic, very vague answer, struggling to fill just the first page. He knew there was a chance he wouldn't graduate. His grades were a joke. But how could he study, when he had a city defend? Was he just supposed to let Skulker rob Axion Labs? Let the Lunch Lady kill that vegan chick from freshman year so he could get an A in math?

 _Oh,_ Danny smiled, _the vegan chick. Sam._

Though he had chased Paulina Sanchez in vain all through middle school, he gave up hope of ever having a real girlfriend after his accident with the Fenton Portal. But the Lunch Lady incident? That was the first haunting at Casper High that he had put an end to, his first heroic triumph. Rescuing Sam Manson started it all.

 _His ghost sense went off, and his gaze went towards the kitchen, where a girl from his biology lab was standing proudly beside the vegan selections that were being served. Looking around, Danny left his grassy sandwich at the table and his behind a trashcan before turning invisible and drifting towards the girl._

" _Excuse me?" Only ghosts had that sort of voice, like a bad radio signal echoing down an empty hallway. It was spooky, but the goth girl only turned around boredly, and barely flinched when she saw the specter behind the counter. "Today's lunch is meatloaf, but I don't see any meatloaf. Did somebody change the menu?" She looked almost human, the ghost. But her dead grey skin and blood red eyes, not to mention the floating, gave her away._

 _But Sam Manson replied simply, "Yeah. I did."_

 _And then hell broke loose._

Danny continued to write his essay, starting a paragraph on how he wants to be an astronaut someday. His pencil slowed as he remembered more about that first ghost fight at school.

 _Leaving the students to clean up the aftermath in the cafeteria, Danny Phantom chased after the specter responsible. She had grown to a massive size and grabbed Sam in her clutches before turning intangible and disappeared into the floor, her gothic captive kicking and screaming the whole way._

 _He found Sam incased in a pile of meat, a look of horror on her face as the ecto-lunch lady floated around her. Danny stayed invisible, trying to think of a plan._

" _Children need meat, sweetie." The ghost sounded too sweet to be genuine, "It helps them grow and makes them smile. Why won't you eat some?" She held up a plate with a slice of meatloaf on it, pushing it towards Sam's face._

" _We don't need meat!" The goth insisted, angling her neck back as far as she could. "It's a fact! Meat is murder!"_

 _Green flames irrupted around the basement as the ghost screeched, and Danny took that moment to leap into action. He blasted the lunch lady with a green light from his hand—how did I do that?!—before grabbing Sam by the shoulders and phasing her out of the meat. He set her down a few feet away and solidified, proud of himself, before receiving a kick to the gut._

" _Ack!" He stumbled back against the wall, looking back at Sam in annoyance. "What the heck? I am trying to rescue you!"_

 _She was holding her fists up defensively, but regarded with curiosity as he spoke. Sam looked like she was going to ask a question, but the Lunch Lady screeched again and both teens looked back at the monster of meat that was forming behind them._

"Time's up, people." Mr. Lancer's booming voice snapped him out of his nostalgia, and Danny sighed at his measly page and a half of mindless writing. He dropped his paper on his teacher's desk and filed out with the rest of the students, noting Mr. Lancer's concerned gaze as he went.

Danny was smiling faintly as he open his locker, still a goofy teenage boy underneath his ghostly DNA and superhero duties. He had a full-blown crush on the ultra-recyclo-vegetarian goth girl who he rescued freshman year and did again today. He admired her from afar, not wanting to put her in any kind of danger by association with him, but had relished in healing her hand after the ectopus attack. And he'd definitely been creeping outside the girls' bathroom, hoping to see that she was alright.

"Speaking of that damn ectopus," Danny moved his textbooks around, dug in his backpack, but he couldn't find what he was looking for. Panic settled into his stomach as the bell rang loudly above his head, which was suddenly pounding. "Where's the thermos?!"

. . . . .

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE, BABY**

 **Whew! I am loving writing this story so, so much! If it's not clear, I am taking some liberty with Danny's powers. I love his ice** powers, **and felt that they weren't used enough in the show. I also love ghosts. I love them so much. I will be using more real-life ghost influences in this story when it comes to terminology, powers, etc. Maybe** a Ouija **board will show up. Maybe some food will rot in an instant. Maybe people will wake up with handprint bruises on their legs. Who knows!**

 **Please review!**

 **Also, I do not have a BETA, so please forgive any typos. Doing my best while my ten-month-old dumps his bottle all over my laptop.**

 **Loves,**

 **Gumistah**


	3. Chapter 3

**Dear Daniel Fenton**

. . . . .

 **Y'all are the sweetest! Sorry that the build up has been a little slow…things pick up here! We are off!**

 **I would just like to remind people that this IS slight AU, so some characters may act differently. Namely, Sam's parents. We will eventually get to her home life, which one of our lovely reviewers asked for.**

 **I don't own anything that is already owned by somebody else. Duh.**

. . . . .

Chapter Three

Through a Window

. . . . .

 _Tucker was on his third carton of chocolate milk when he felt the table rumble underneath him._ For a second, he thought that an Earthquake was happening, but the tremor stopped as quickly as it started. More focused on eating than his safety—because the slice of pie he had for breakfast at home wasn't enough—he shrugged, but then it happened again.

He was alone in the cafeteria, as the lunch lady had left after he'd paid for his meal. Tucker set down his carton and stood, looking around for the source of the tremor. It happened again, and he turned slowly back towards the table, where Danny Fenton's thermos was shaking from it's place inside Tucker's backpack. The tremors had shaken it out of the pack, and it rolled across the table before sliding onto the floor. The sound of metal against the linoleum was nothing compared to the booming explosion that the little thermos made as the lid flew off, and out of the unearthly green light it produced appeared a ghost.

The same ghost from before.

Tucker's heart was pounding and his head was spinning and he took in a deep breath to scream, the suddenly cold air burning his lungs, but the ghost paid him no attention as it took off up and through the ceiling. And it was quiet. The only evidence that anything had happened was the open, empty thermos on the ground, its lid lying a few inches away.

Tucker stared at it. It was silver, with green accents, but a black cover with a strap concealed most of the design. He bent down, picked it up with shaking fingers, and pealed the case off. It made sense that _Danny_ would have a Fenton Thermos, seeing as he was a _Fenton_ , but what didn't make sense was how it contained the _same_ ghost that _Phantom_ had caught in _his_ Fenton Thermos earlier. Nobody knew how Phantom had stolen a Fenton Thermos. Jack and Maddie Fenton had said multiple times to reporters that they did not give it to him, that he stole it, that they despised him and would never have given some dirty, rotten ghost one of their devices.

But maybe Phantom didn't have to steal it because he already had one. Because Danny Fenton had one. Danny Fenton had disappeared when the ghost appeared, and Phantom had appeared when Danny Fenton disappeared.

Tucker was looking down the empty barrel of the thermos when the cafeteria doors burst open, making him jump.

Danny Fenton was panting, looking panicked, but his whole body froze when he saw Tucker there, holding the open thermos in his hands. The open, empty thermos.

Tucker looked from Danny to the thermos and back, the gears turning in his head almost audible. "Uh, dude?"

Danny shut the cafeteria doors behind him, "I can explain."

. . . . .

Sam had shut off her phone after the third time it rang, enjoying the silence of the back stacks of the library. Her mother and father had both sent a multitude of texts and left voicemails, all of which she ignored. The school told them that she was fine, as if they cared. If she had died in the brief attack, Sam wondered if her parents would feel relief. Maybe she'd feel relief.

Shaking the dark thought from her head, Sam buried her nose further into the book she was reading. It was old, with torn pages and a smell that lingered on her hands long after she put it down. _Hauntings of Amity Park,_ by Frederik Isak Showenhower. She'd read it over and over, making notes on the fading pages of times she'd seen the ghosts mentioned, or just doodling nonsense around the words and blurry photographs.

Ghosts were cool, mainstream as they were now.

There was no mention of the Phantom in this particular book, but Sam ignored most published works about him, as the public tended to make him out to be a menace.

"He's a hero," She said out loud, turning a page with a sigh. Sam was not one of those fanatics, like Paulina, but she appreciated the ghost boy and what he had done for the town, and for her in particular. She still glanced at her hands every few seconds, wishing there was a book on the apparent healing powers of the undead. If Phantom really was evil, why would he have taken the time to make sure she (and that other guy) were okay?

She paused, closing the book and switching her phone back on. She ignored the texts from her parents— _SAMANTHA, IF YOU DO NOT PICK UP THE PHONE YOU ARE GROUNDED—_ and replied instead to her boss, who had texted Sam last night about picking up an extra shift.

 _Hey, Carmen, I can work the 4-12 shift tonight._

The Skulk and Lurk Shoppe was Sam's home away from home. She spent so much time there that the owner offered her a job out of the blue one day, and Sam had been more than happy to accept. It was primarily a book store, specializing in goth culture, but it also sold clothing, jewelry, decorations, and last year, they tore down a wall and bought the café next door. Sam worked the register and did inventory, so she knew most of what Skulk and Lurk had to offer.

Sam knew they had just gotten an order of books all about local lore. Perhaps there was something there about ghosts and healing abilities. Plus, if she was working the night shift, she wouldn't have to go home after school. Her electric vespa—which she bought herself on her sixteenth birthday, completely ignoring the shitty environmental nightmare gifted to her—was quiet enough that perhaps they wouldn't wake up when she got home.

She'd rather lose a night of sleep than be at home.

As Sam walked to second period, she noticed Danny Fenton and that boy from the ghost attack outside in the parking lot. The window had a crack in it, and Sam wondered if it was from today's ghost attack or some one of the hundreds before.

. . . . .

For the first time in his life, Tucker skipped school. Not really by choice, as he was grabbed by the hand and dragged out by a ghost. And that ghost was Danny Fenton, who turned them both invisible, intangible, and flew them out to the parking lot beside Tucker's car.

Tucker shrieked like a little girl, hating the frozen sensation of suddenly not _existing_ and suddenly _floating_ , but Danny put a hand over his mouth and shushed him. Still clutching the empty thermos, Tucker pointed it with trembling hands at Danny, and whispered from behind his hand, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't use this on you!"

"Because I saved you!" Danny whispered back, shaking his head. "I'm not a bad guy! I'm just a normal guy!"

"A normal _ghost_ ," Tucker shook off Danny's hand.

The blue-eyed teen sighed, "Okay, yes, but also no. It's…it's a long story."

Tucker looked at Danny, really looked at him, and took half a step back. The kid looked normal, if a bit frazzled. Back in freshman year, the two of them had been partners on a science project., he remembered. Danny had made Tucker laugh, and Tucker got Danny his first A+ in biology. It saved Danny from being held back, he told Tucker, and thanked him. But Tucker remember Danny was a horrible partner, because he almost never showed up to class and ditched every study session. _Busy fighting ghosts? At fourteen?_ Tucker put the lid on the thermos.

"Okay. Tell me."

Danny stepped back this time, eyes widening and mouth hanging open. "Wait. What?"

Tucker pulled out his keys and opened the passenger door of his Jeep. "Get in, and tell me everything, dude."

. . . . .

 **Danny's gonna have a friend?! Yay!**

 **Forgive typos! I don't have a BETA. What I do have is a teething ten-month old who makes it very difficult to find the time to write!**

 **Leave a review, lovelies!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Dear Daniel Fenton**

 **I own nothing, kiddos. Also, here we go! PLOTTT!**

. . . . .

 _Chapter Four_

 _For Forever_

. . . . .

"So, you're a ghost."

"Yes."

"And you're human."

"Yup."

"You are somehow dead _and_ alive."

"Somehow."

Tucker sucked in a deep breath, held it for a second, and blew it out with a laugh. He drove Danny away from Casper High and the two of them ended up at the Nasty Burger, where they sat in the parking lot with the radio playing softly in the background. Tucker was quiet for Danny's tale, never interrupting him as he told the story of an accident at Fenton Works nearly four years ago. Danny spoke quickly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he explained that how he decided to use his powers for good and try to make the best of his situation.

Danny raised an eyebrow, "This is funny?"

Tucker snorted, "Well, yeah, kinda."

"How?"

Rubbing his eyes behind his glass, Tucker laughed again. "I mean, dude, your parents are professional _ghost hunters_ with a _ghost_ living in their _house_! You gotta admit, it's pretty ironic."

The blue-eyed boy narrowed his eyes at his companion for a moment before chuckling as he collapsed back against the seat. "I can't tell you how many close calls I've had with them! They have literally pointed their ghost hunting equipment _right_ at me, had it go off, and rather than assume anything is wrong with _me_ , they spend two days in the lab trying to fix whatever is wrong with the latest Fenton gizmo."

Tucker slammed his hands on the wheel with another burst of laughter, "Dude, come _on."_

"Seriously! Once they were convinced my sister Jazz was a ghost, just because she had a bad attitude. I have fallen through the floor three feet away from them, but they just happened to be looking the other way!" Danny wiped a tear from his face, realizing that he hadn't laughed like this in a long time. "And dude, why aren't you freaked?"

Tucker's laughter died out with a sigh, "Man, I am totally freaked. Like, disturbed, even. But, dude, I've seen Phantom—er, you, I guess—save people time and time again. I wasn't afraid of him, so why should I be afraid of you?"

They stared at each other for a moment, silent, before Danny smiled. "Thanks, Tucker."

"I mean, just this morning you saved me and that spooky chick!" If Tucker were blind, he may have missed the way Danny's whole body tensed, the way his smile dipped into something more like a dopey grin. "Uh, dude?"

"Sam."

"Huh?"

Danny ran a hand through his hair and tried not to blush, "Her name is Sam. Sam Manson?"

Tucker nodded slowly, "Yeah, I kinda know her. We were partners in gym once. She nearly killed me." People filed in and out of the Nasty Burger, as lunch time was fast approaching, and Tucker wondered if someone from school would show up and recognize them. "I saw you talking to her earlier. That's when I found the thermos. And you were totally creeping outside the girls' room."

Danny's eyes widened, "It's not like I went _inside_! I just wanted to make sure she was okay! I don't…I don't heal people very often. People don't usually give me the chance. So, I just wanted to be sure she didn't, like, grow a third arm or something."

Raising an eyebrow, Tucker smirked. "You like her, don't you?" Danny didn't answer, which was answer enough. "Danny, dude! You're literally a super hero! You could have any girl you wanted! Paulina Sanchez is _obsessed_ with you, and you're into the goth girl?"

"I'm not a super hero, and Paulina Sanchez is shallow." The defensiveness in Danny's voice surprised Tucker. "And Sam Manson is much more than a goth girl."

"Yeah, she's the one who banned meat for a week, awaked an evil lunch lady, and the whole campus had to get exorcised while eating nothing but salads. She's also once shaved half her hair off to protest Sea World." Tucker was baiting him now.

"Sea World is pretty messed up, Tucker."

"So are bald chicks."

Danny scoffed, "If you got to know her, you'd be amazed."

"So, you do like her." Tucker crossed his arms over his chest, smiling in victory.

With a huff, Danny shifted in his seat and stared out the window. Danny had been crushing hard on Sam Manson since that evil lunch lady incident. The way she was brave, the way she stood up for herself, the way she almost decked him when he tried to rescue her…And the way she looked at him, fascinated and unafraid. "S'not like I can do anything about it…" His mumbling was quiet, but Tucker heard him.

"Why not?!"

The exclamation made Danny jump, and his turned back to Tucker with wide eyes. "Um, hello?" Danny allowed his eyes to flash green as a reminder of what he was, and Tucker blinked back at him.

"So what? I'd be willing to bet a spooky chick like Sam Manson would be into dating a dead guy." Tucker caught himself, "Or a, um, half dead guy."

"Phantom can't exactly go on dates, Tucker. What am I supposed to do, fly her to Starbucks and sip coffee while the Guys in White try to capture me, potentially hurting her in the process? Really romantic, dude." Danny held up his hands in defeat, "And Fenton is a huge geek with freakish parents and a really low GPA. Not exactly boyfriend material."

Tucker thought for a moment, before smiling. Maybe senior year would be different, after all. "Okay, but what if _Phantom_ helped _Fenton_ get the girl?"

Danny looked at Tucker like he was crazy, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Tucker whipped out his PDA, and typing away at his furiously until he found what he was looking for. "According to Facebook, Sam Manson works at the Skulk and Lurk, that weird place downtown? They host seances, ghost tours, lectures on the paranormal…Phantom could show up to one of those!"

"I still have no idea what you're talking about."

Tucker rolled his eyes dramatically, before leaning close to Danny. "Be your own wingman! Use your identity as _Phantom_ to get Sam Manson interested in _Fenton_. You could show up at her work as Phantom, wanting to make sure she's okay after today's attack, prompted by your good friends Danny Fenton and Tucker Foley, who were worried about her."

"My good friends Danny Fenton _and_ Tucker Foley?" Danny leaned away from the enthusiastic teen, but couldn't pretend he wasn't intrigued.

"Hey, I gotta get some street cred from this. You can't be the only guy who gets a girl. If I can let it slip that I know the Phantom, maybe I can get one of those beautifully shallow girls like Paulina to go to Starbucks with me." Tucker leaned back, resting his arms behind his head. "It's a perfect plan."

"It's a crazy plan. It's hardly a plan at all!" Danny shook his head, "How is it that I have the ghost powers and you're the weird kid?"

"You're overthinking this, dude." Tucker turned his Jeep back on and began to pull towards the Drive-Thru. "First, we're getting lunch. Then, we're going to my place to perfect this perfect plan of mine."

"I think it would've been better if you'd just run away from me, screaming." Danny was tempted to get out of the car then and run away himself. But it had been so long since Danny had laughed like this, been a part of a goofy shenanigan. He liked it. More than that, he liked Tucker. Tucker, who hadn't run screaming, who had wanted to hear him out. Danny hadn't had the time for friends in four years. He hadn't allowed himself friends in four years, worried that they would fear him or, God forbid, turn him over to the Guys in White. Danny wanted to have a friend. And a friend who was interested in helping him get close to Sam? "You do realize that you're putting yourself in danger?"

Tucker just laughed, "Nah, dude. This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. And, hopefully, the beginning of two beautiful relationships."

. . . . .

 **Okay! Tucker and Danny, buddies at last! What kind of trouble will they get into? Will they go crash Sam's work? Will Danny be his own wingman? Will Tucker be wingman number two? Will I ever get all my laundry done?**

 **Tune in next time!**

 **Gumistah . . . . .**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dear Daniel Fenton**

. . . . .

Chapter Five

Sincerely, Me

. . . . .

 _Sam made it through the rest of the school day_ without another run-in with Paulina or anyone for that matter, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief when she walked through the front doors of the Skulk and Lurk. The store was open from twelve-to-twelve, and Sam was happy to find it was mostly empty right now. She wanted some time to read up on ghosts.

"Good afternoon, Sam," Carmen, who owned the place, was stocking books when Sam stepped inside. The door let out a low chime, announcing her entrance. "You're early."

Sam shrugged, heading behind the counter to drop off her spider-shaped backpack. "I had nothing better to do."

"Ah, the whiles of youth." Carmen was short, in both height and temperament, with dark blue hair that she kept over one eye. Though she was only in her early thirties, Carmen had managed to create and sustain a successful business. She once said to Sam that opening an occult store in the most haunted town in America was like opening a bar in a rehabilitation center, _"It may be contributing to the problem, but that's not my problem."_

Sam put on her name tag, which disappeared in the sea of other pins and accessories she wore, and tied half of her hair up. "Hey, did we get that new order of local ghost stories?"

"Yeah, right here in this box." Carmen motioned with the book she was holding to one of the boxes at her feet. "I was just getting them sorted."

"I'll take over for you if you want."

With a raised eyebrow, the owner shrugged. "Sure, but I'm not paying you overtime. I'm gonna grab a coffee. Want something?"

Sam took the box from her boss, shifting so it was balanced on her hip. "Black tea would be great." Once the blue-haired woman was off to the other side of the store, Sam set the box down next to the others and began digging through. Titles such as _The Amity Park Horror_ and _Opening the Box Ghost's Box_ stared up at her, all shiny and new. There were a few older titles, one about a boy who committed suicide by jumping off the roof of Casper High and another about a hunter who fell into one of his own elaborate traps. She'd heard those stories before. People say that the body of the hunter was so mutilated that his ghost was nothing more than a blog of ectoplasm. They say that the boy still haunts the high school.

"Damn it." None of the books seemed to have the information she was after, so Sam started to stock them. She couldn't help but stare at her hands as she moved the books, at the skin that just hours ago was bleeding and burned, and was now shiny and new. Whatever Phantom had done to her, it was miraculous. Heroic.

Sam sighed, moving from the first box to the next, and didn't bother lifting her head when the door opened and chimed. "Welcome to Skulk and Lurk!" She called, forcing her voice to be relatively enthusiastic. Pausing with her hand on a thick leather-bound, Sam's eyes widened as she lifted the heavy book out of its box. "Frederich Isak Showenhower?" Sam shifted she was sitting on the floor, opening the book to its table of contents and skimming the introduction.

 _For generations, the Showenhowers have mastered the craft of ghost hunting, control, and understanding. In this collection, the Master himself reveals some of his immeasurable knowledge of all things spectral, including but not limited to, ectoplasmic DNA, the Ghost Zone, dead artifacts, possession and overshadowing, ghostly obsessions…_

"Jackpot!" Sam smiled, rising to her feet and taking the book up to the register. Her smile froze on her face as she was greeted by two figures, both of whom turned to stare after her exclamation. For the second time that day, she was staring at Danny Fenton and the boy from before. "Uh. Can I help you?"

The black boy spoke up first, taking a step towards his companion to allow Sam to get behind the counter. "I sure hope so! See, my good pal Danny and I are trying to get ahold of a friend of ours."

"Might I suggest a phone book? Or, since it's not 2004, the internet?" Sam set the massive book down on the counter with a thud, which caused both boys to jump.

"Our friend doesn't exactly have access to telephones or Facebook. He's more likely to answer a Ouija board than a Skype call, you know?"

Intrigued, Sam put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at the boy in the red beret. "So, you're here for a book on how to communicate with the dead?" Her eyes traveled the other boy, "I would think your parents would be able to help you with that."

Danny Fenton rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and Sam noted that he did that a lot. "Yeah, you'd think…" His friend elbowed him, "But! But we'd like to keep my parents out of it. We want to talk, not, you know, rip him apart molecule by molecule."

"We wouldn't want anything to happen to our friend," The other boy, whose name Sam thought was something like Tyler, wiggled his eyebrows. "Seeing as we're friends and all."

"Laying it on a little thick, Tuck," Danny said through his smile. Tucker. That was it.

Sam sighed, beginning to type _speaking with the dead_ into the Skulk and Lurk's inventory search, "Okay, I'll bite. Who's your friend?"

"Phantom."

Her eyes widened, and Sam's fingers froze on the keyboard. "Phantom," She repeated, not really a question as much a chance to say his name out loud.

"That's right," Tucker leaned towards her, both hands on the counter.

Danny rolled his eyes, "Okay, look. He's a friend of ours, and we just want a way to contact him." Softening his tone, Danny met Sam's curious gaze. "We thought you might know of a way, seeing as you work in a place like this."

Sam tore her purple eyes away from Danny's blue ones and sifted through the computer results. "If you're such good friends, why do you need help contacting him?"

Tucker answered a little too quickly, "Because he saved the school today and doesn't want to draw any more attention!" Clearing his throat, he continued, "The Guys in White would be on him like a moth to a flame if he made another scene. Or us, if we did. He wouldn't want us to endanger ourselves."

Sam found a title she thought suitable, walked around the counter and into the mass of shelves. They followed her, tripping over themselves as they did. She rolled her eyes. Trailing one black nail along until she found the book she was looking for, Sam held the book up to them with a bored expression. " _Conversations with Dead People_ by Joanna Harper. It's one of our best-sellers. We also carry _Seances for Dummies."_

Danny reached for the book, and Sam flinched when their hands touched. It was instinctual, from both her reluctance towards human contact and wanting to protect her hands. Pulling back, Sam set her expression to one of pure goth indifference.

"We'll take it," Tucker fished out his wallet, already turning towards the register and leaving Sam and Danny behind.

"Uh…Yeah." With an awkward thumbs up, Danny backed away, and Sam followed.

She rang up the book and placed it carefully in a paper bag printed with a skull and pentagram, along with a complimentary bookmark that smelled like sage. Sam enjoyed the aesthetic, and couldn't help but assume that these two boys did not. Their clothes—Danny's blue plaid shirt and Tucker's mustard yellow hoodie—stood out like sore thumbs among the black bookshelves and blood-red carpet.

"That'll be nineteen ninety-nine," Sam took Tucker's crumpled twenty and traded it for a shiny penny. She surprised herself by asking, "If you do get ahold of Phantom, could you give him a message for me?"

Tucker elbowed Danny, who answered, "Of course." His blue eyes were wide, and he took a step closer to the counter that separated the two boys from the goth girl. "What would you like us to say?"

Sam bit her lip and looked down at her hands that were just out of sight beneath the register. Odd as it may seem that these guys were actually friends of the ghost boy, Sam wouldn't pass up the chance to express her gratitude. And maybe get some answers. "Could you say…Thanks for lending me a hand earlier? From the girl from the school." She blushed slightly and hoped her pale foundation was enough to cover the pink. "I'm Sam Manson, by the way."

Danny blinked, and then he smiled so brightly that Sam couldn't help but smirk in response. He grabbed his friend by the arm and began to pull him out of the shop. "We'll be sure to pass that along Phantom!" Danny called to her as he waved, leaving the Skulk and Lurk behind as the door swung shut with another low chime.

Sam noticed that she was waving back, and shoved her hand into her pockets with a scoff before turning her attention to the massive book that was still resting ominously on the counter. "Jackpot," She said again.

. . . . .

"Dude, that was _perfect_!" Tucker slapped Danny on the back as they left the store, his face beaming. "Did you hear that? She wanted to thank _you_ for lending her a hand!"

"Great," Danny rolled his eyes. "So I can be the middleman and send myself a message. Awesome."

Tucker scoffed, "Bro, don't you see? Sam wants to _thank_ Phantom. She's not afraid of him! And isn't always better to thank someone yourself?"

As they made they way a few blocks down to Tucker's Jeep, Danny ran his hands through his hair. "Are you saying I should turn around and go in there as Phantom and talk to her?"

"Your lack of faith is killing me, dude." Tucker took the book from Danny's hands and waved it in his face. "We've got to _contact_ our friend, tell him about _Sam_ , and _then_ our friend can pay her a visit. And Phantom will tell Sam about his great friend Danny and Sam will be so thankful that she got to thank Phantom in person that she'll want to thank you in person, too!"

Danny blinked once, twice, and then laughed. "Wow. That's the craziest thing I've ever heard." Taking the book back, Danny sighed. "And what is the end game here? Sam thanks me for allowing her to thank the other me and, what? We go on a date?"

Tucker groaned, "Dude, yes!"

"And what is in it for you, exactly? I already told you, we can't go prancing around, bragging that we _know_ Phantom."

Taking off his glasses, Tucker rubbed his eyes. "Danny, look. This is our senior year. I know we just met, but I _know_ you. You're me," The two boys locked eyes. "You may not run with the geeks, but you've been just as much as an outsider as I have. High School _sucks_! I haven't been on a date in two years, my closest friends are just a couple of strangers on online DOOM, and my parents think I'm a basket case because I never have plans that aren't school-related.

"I told myself that senior year would be different, but I didn't know how." Tucker smiled, looking down the street at the busy sidewalks of downtown Amity Park. "Did you know that this is the first time I've ever ditched school? And the first time I've ever been downtown with a…a friend?" Sighing, he continued, "And I'm pretty sure it's the same for you, too."

Danny felt his chest tighten, and as he opened his mouth to respond, Tucker held up a hand for him to stop. "I won't tell anybody your secret, I swear. I won't brag about knowing Phantom to anybody other than that creepy chick back there."

"But what I don't get," Danny couldn't help but interrupt, "is what you're getting out of this! If you don't want to use my secret identity to get some sort of street cred or ransom, what is it you do want?"

Tucker, blushing despite himself, answered honestly. "A friend. And an awesome senior year."

Danny smiled and shook his head, but before he could respond, a shiver ran up his spine, and he released a cold, sparkling mist from his mouth.

Tucker gasped, looking excited as he pulled Danny's thermos—which Danny realized, embarrassed, that he had forgotten to take back—from his satchel and held it up. "Dude. You have a spidey-sense?"

"Ghost sense," Danny corrected, looking around for the source of the sudden drop in temperature. "You may want to find somewhere to hide."

"Dude, haven't you heard?" Tucker uncapped the thermos and stepped up so he was right beside Danny. "I'm a close friend of the Phantom. My days of running away from ghosts are _over_."

Danny rolled his eyes, and in doing so spotted the same ectopus from before, floating nearly invisible above the buildings. It was circling as if searching for something, and Danny could only just barely hear a ghostly screech echoing from it.

"Cover me!"

Having reached their destination, Tucker opened his Jeep, and Danny jumped inside as Tucker slammed the door behind him. Shielding his eyes from the sudden flash of light, Tucker felt the late summer air around him turn deathly cold, and he lifted his gaze just in time to see Phantom phase out of the car, holding a gloved hand out towards him.

Tucker tossed the thermos into the ghost's grasp, and smiled, "Go get 'em, dude."

. . . . .

 **Oh, Tucker and Danny, being ridiculously silly teenage boys. Also, ooh, what sort of trouble could Sam get herself into by reading such a** _ **freakish**_ **book?**

 **Please Review! It makes my heart happy.**

 **Gumistah**


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